


A Time in Milan

by AVegetarianCannibal



Series: Slice of Life [11]
Category: Hannibal - Fandom
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Hannibal spoils the dog, Italy, M/M, Milan, Traveling, the dog enjoys it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-27
Updated: 2019-02-27
Packaged: 2019-11-06 13:39:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17940749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AVegetarianCannibal/pseuds/AVegetarianCannibal
Summary: Hannibal takes Cephi the dog out for a stroll through Milan. He has every intention of not spoiling her, but his resolve weakens.





	A Time in Milan

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shukkhy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shukkhy/gifts).



Hannibal watches Cephi as she trots from one corner of the garden to the next, exploring the dining area that’s been designated for dog owners at the Hotel Sanpi Milano. Other dogs—most of them bigger than her—explore the garden, too, but generally keep close to their people in hopes of catching a scrap of breakfast.

He tears off a corner of his pastry and makes a little kissing sound to call her over. Cephi immediately comes to his side, and so do twin cairn terriers. He has three pairs of eyes blinking up at him, expectant.

“I don’t know if you’re allowed to have food from strangers,” he says to the two cairns as he hands the bite of food to Cephi. The terriers waddle away with a distinct air of disappointment.

He hears Will laughing softly behind him. “I thought you only talked to our dog, but it turns out it’s all dogs.”

“It was only polite,” Hannibal says as Will takes the seat opposite. “I wouldn’t want them to think I was being stingy.”

Will takes his hand and rubs his knuckles with his thumb. “You dork. You sure I can’t convince you to come fishing with me?”

“Our girl and I have a full day ahead of us,” Hannibal says. “You go enjoy your time with your scaly little friends.”

Will narrows his eyes. “I’m going to come back to a room full of new toys and clothes for Cephi, aren’t I?”

Hannibal huffs indignantly. “Of course not.”

* * *

Cephi wriggles impatiently on the tailor’s desk, causing the elderly man man to make murmurs of disapproval as he measures her.

“She’s normally much better for fittings,” Hannibal says. “I’m afraid I overindulged her at breakfast. _Troppo zucchero_.”

“So _you’re_ the one I should be scolding,” the old man says, looking up at him over the rim of his glasses. He clucks his tongue and goes back to his measurements.

“Will her new jacket be ready by this Thursday?” Hannibal asks. “We’re only in Milan until then.”

“ _Impossibile_ ,” the tailor says. “Unless you pick another fabric—one I actually have in stock. You want special order? You wait.”

Hannibal rubs the sample swatch of his chosen fabric between his fingers and gives it some consideration. It’s one of the finest Italian wools he’s ever felt, woven in a subtle herringbone pattern of ivory and palest sage green. It will look stunning against Cephi’s fur, and the light weight of the cloth is perfect for a sunny spring morning.

“I’m afraid I must have the herringbone,” he says. “With green velveteen around the neck and pockets, I think.”

“Next Thursday,” the tailor says after mumbling something about putting pockets on a dog’s garment. “Not this Thursday.”

“Fine,” Hannibal agrees. “But she’ll also need a collar and lead in the velveteen, as well.”

* * *

They spend the rest of the morning walking through the park around the natural history museum. It’s a bit chilly, but Cephi has on her gray woolen sweater. Well, _one_ of her gray woolen sweaters. She has three now that Adriana has sent her one knitted by her niece. This particular sweater is the one that Will likes to say Hannibal chose because it matches his hair. Hannibal denied it at the time, but he admits to himself there’s not a total lack of similarity in hue.

As they wander back in the general direction of the hotel, they very nearly accidentally stop at a vegetarian restaurant for lunch. He promised Will recently that he would eat healthier food between outright feasts, but a tofu burger with sprouts is a bridge too far.

He finds a small restaurant with sunny outdoor seating and a server who greets Cephi with enthusiasm.

“Un cane così carino!” cries the young woman, cooing over Cephi before showing them to a table.

“ _Grazie_ ,” Hannibal says, settling Cephi into the chair opposite his own. “Her fathers think she’s quite adorable, too.”

Cephi preens and lifts her head, wagging her tail as if she knows just what they are saying. Of course, she might just, as bright as she is, Hannibal thinks.

He turns his attention to the menu and immediately finds the osso bucco and polenta terribly tempting, but a heavy meal in mid-afternoon might not be conducive to an athletic romp with Will later…

Instead he orders some coffee and a small plate of amaretti, with a little bowl of diced boiled egg for Cephi.

* * *

As they turn the last corner before reaching the hotel, Hannibal spies a boutique for dogs. He has Cephi’s sweater draped over his arm (she was growing overwarm in the sun) and a brand new coat and collar being made for her by a skilled tailor. She wants for nothing. There can not be a _single thing_ in that boutique that she truly lacks. Hannibal can already imagine Will’s chastisements. “She has enough things for four dogs already. Her suitcase weighs nearly as much as my own.”

And yet… what does it hurt to look?

“We can browse without purchasing anything,” Hannibal says, and leads her inside.

Hannibal’s interest in jeweled tags and silk beds chills when he sees a wall of puppies in small cages.

He takes his phone from his jacket pocket and calls Will.

“Hey, I’m just on my way back to the hotel,” Will says by way of greeting.

“As are we,” Hannibal says. “Are you going to smell of fish?”

“Nothing was biting, I’m afraid,” Will says.

Hannibal sighs. “Pity. I was looking forward to washing you.”

“You can still do that,” Will laughs. “See you soon?”

“One question first,” Hannibal says. “Selling puppies in stores is rude, is it not? Especially if they’re kept in prisons barely large enough for them to romp and play in?”

Will is silent for a while. Hannibal can hear a bit of shuffling and mumbling that might be the result of moving to a more private location.

“You’re not going to kill anyone, are you?” Will’s voice is a rough whisper.

“Not at this very moment,” Hannibal says. “But surely you can’t be averse.”

“You know I’m not,” Will grumbles. “I’d just rather not anything put our upcoming nuptials at risk when you don’t know the full story. The store could be working with a rescue.”

“Very well,” Hannibal says. “But keep an open mind about our honeymoon plans.”

* * *

By the time Will returns to their hotel room, Hannibal has confirmed that the shop is, indeed, working with rescue organizations within Italy and beyond. He now feels a bit of regret at leaving without buying one of the tags that caught his eye.

Hannibal, sitting in one of the room’s sumptuous chairs, gestures to Will without having to say anything.

Will crosses the room and slides into his lap with a happy-sounding sigh. Hannibal loops his arms loosely around Will’s waist and tilts his head up. Will obliges him with a soft, slow kiss.

“Mm, I missed you. The fish were a poor substitute.”

“Not a nibble, hm?”

“Not a one.”

“ _I_ have a nibble for you.”

Hannibal nuzzles into Will’s neck and gives him the lightest nip with just one sharp tooth, eliciting a throaty laugh in response.

Cephi, who has been fast asleep until now, hops up with a bark. She wags her tail when she realizes who’s woken her.

Will holds out his hand and gives her ears a ruffling. He turns back to Hannibal. “I’d never have pegged you for the dog avenging type.”

“Rudeness is rudeness,” Hannibal says. Will rolls his eyes. “But I suppose I’ve been influenced to _some_ small degree.”

“Does that mean we’re killing the pet shop owner for our honeymoon?” Will asks.

“Sadly, no,” Hannibal says, then hurries to explain. “That is, _fortunately_ no. No puppy mills were involved. We’ll have to come up with other plans, I suppose.”

Will leans in for another kiss. “I’m more than confident we’ll come up with something _somehow_.”

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies for the iffy Italian. Hannibal is fluent and I only know a few words here and there. I should have taken the time to ask an Italian Fannibal for help but I'm an impatient sort.
> 
> Apologies also in advance if I don't reply to comments. I read and love them all, and appreciate readers so much, but I too often freeze up when I try to reply.


End file.
